


Lots of stalagmites and stalactites in this cave!

by Insecuriosity



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Drunk Sex, M/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, valve teeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 19:42:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13910832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insecuriosity/pseuds/Insecuriosity
Summary: Cliffjumper has always hated Mirages guts, Cliffjumper has definitely never felt attracted to those gorgeous forms and that hard-to-get attitude. Definitely never.One night, impossibly overcharged, he is heading towards Mirage's berth - this has to be too good to be true, right?





	Lots of stalagmites and stalactites in this cave!

Cliffjumper had always found Mirage a pleasing bot to the optics. He had those regal smooth edges to his armour, smooth joints that made every transformation look like art come alive, and a voicebox that could make anything sound refined and posh. He had a decent taste when it came to paintjobs as well, though Cliffjumper would have gone for more vibrant colours. Still, Mirage managed to make even those dull shades of blue look _good_. 

So, of course, at his earliest opportunity, Cliffjumper had begun to make a few moves on the mech. Fellow soldiers helped each other out, didn’t they? Sleeping around with fellow soldiers was encouraged to boost morale, and Cliffjumper needed a morale boost from the mech that looked like his interface array would be more expensive than Cliffjumper’s entire production line! 

Cliffjumper had spent an extra minute in the washracks to polish up, he had picked out his best pick up lines, and he’d gone straight for Mirage’s table. Two breems later, covered in energon and with a dent in his nasal ridge, Cliffjumper had discovered that all of that beauty was being compensated for with the most ROTTEN attitude on Cybertron. 

Cliffjumper had just been talking! He hadn’t even started with the really good pick up lines yet – and Mirage had dumped his drink on top of his head. Right in the mess hall, with everyone watching! Like it was a normal thing to do! Nobody had come to Cliffjumper’s defense either. Oh no, people had come to MIRAGE’S defense!  
They were all looking to get into his berth too, that’s why they were bowing at his pedes! That pretty face inspired a lot more sympathy than muddy old Cliffjumper! Everyone had practically jumped at the opportunity to take Mirage’s side, and the damned aristo-rot had sucked it all up – sitting there with that pointy artisan-crafted nasal ridge up in the air like he was that much better-! 

So, that had settled it. Mirage had officially become Cliffjumper’s enemy No 1. As much as Cliffjumper loved that aft – conveniently swaying from side to side _right_ around optic-level - he would rather die before approaching that techsnake of a mech again.  
Mirage was a rotten goodie in a nice wrapper, and neither of them wanted ANYTHING to do with the other. 

But, well…. Here they were. Overcharged, trying to navigate the hallway of the Ark together and, if Cliffjumper had understood everything correctly, heading towards a berth. To interface in it. 

He must’ve missed some important interactions somewhere in ther last vorn – as far as he knew, he and Mirage had been at a stalemate since arriving on earth. And not even the voluntary kind of stalemate either! More like a … a Jazz-will-definitely-tattle-and-he-sees-everything induced stalemate. 

Had he been nicer to Mirage? He doesn’t remember being nicer than usual – or even being _meaner_ than usual. He’d gotten the message the first time he tried to flirt with Mirage - pretty bot was off-limits.

But right now, he had his hands on the mech’s shiny legs, only a few finger-lenths away from Mirage’s interface panel. Mirage’s hands weren’t touching him anymore, but Cliffjumper could still feel his plating tingle where the noblemech had pushed his fingers between the gaps in his armour.  
They had kissed too, when Mirage had been sitting. Cliffjumper’s mouth tasted vaguely of copper additives and silver sprinkles. Cliffjumper was not going to question how it happened – he was going to go with the flow. 

A door slid open, and Cliffjumper eagerly followed Mirage into the darkened room. The light from the hallway made Mirage’s form seem even more beautiful. His light blue finish paired with the orange lights from the Ark made him look unreal, like an artist had picked every colour of the scene to make it look _just_ right…

Mirage closed the door, and they were shrouded in darkness. Cliffjumper’s optics had to work to adjust, and when he could see right again, Mirage was on his berth. His frame had subtle grey highlights, making him appear almost like a ghost as he lied there, and Cliffjumper felt his spark spinning quicker as Mirage beckoned him over.  
Cliffjumper didn’t have biolights of his own, but his optics reflected in Mirage’s paint as he drew closer. It was pure satisfaction to touch his lips against Mirage’s. It didn’t matter that he had to awkwardly climb on top of the mech, or that Mirage had to help him a little – he was experiencing a fantasy that had been on his mind for at least a vorn.

“Your lips – so soft.” Cliffjumper panted to Mirage when their kiss ended. “Th-… ‘re they custom, or something?” 

Mirage let out a short huff, and the warm air buffeted Cliffjumper’s plating in a delightful way. “No, I was created like this.” He replied haughtily. 

Cliffjumper had plenty of stupid and insensitive things to say to that, about the unfairness of the old ‘golden’ Cybertron and unneccesary luxuries being given to spoiled idiots, but he’d become better at keeping all that to himself when it was beneficial.  
And at the moment he was pretty sure he would kill the person that disrupted this for him – even if it was himself. 

Cliffjumper moved, and hot plating pressed up against his leg.  
“Yea, I guess only Primus could make something as perfect looking as your aft.” Cliffjumper felt like he should get overcharged more often if it made him this smooth. 

Mirage’s chuckle was silent, but Cliffjumper could feel it in the way his frame hiccupped a little. At least, he thought he could. 

Cliffjumper rocked himself back and forth on Mirage’s body, brushing his spike panel over Mirage’s plating. The sounds of metal on metal filled the habsuite. Was he leaving scuffs on that beautiful form ? Cliffjumper hoped so.  
The only thing that would be better than interfacing with this mech was leaving irrefutable proof that he had done so – just so that he could look back and know that it’d really, really happened.

“Mhmm… ahh…” Mirage moaned. “I’m … overcharged…” Even Mirage’s sounds of pleasure fit in with his overall posh demeanour. Soft, with minimal amounts of audible panting, and somehow STILL with that upperclass accent! 

There was a click, and Cliffjumper couldn’t hold back a far less dignified noise when his leg rubbed over wet valve lips instead of a hot panel. The material of Mirage’s valve was just as soft as his lips, and so elaborately shaped that they must have cost thousands to fabricate.  
“M-mods?” He asked before he could stop himself. Mirage didn’t like it when people insinuated that he’d been modified, instead of just build perfectly from scratch. Scrap. 

“Mmm…I hope that’s not a problem…” Mirage replied. He did not sound upset, and he lifted Cliffjumper so that he could look him in the optics. “If you want to be spiked, that is not a problem either. I do not have mods there.”

“Uh- no, no I don’t mind.” Cliffjumper fumbled his words. After so many years of verbal warfare, it was hard to hold back the smug ‘I knew I was right!’, but Mirage was right here, underneath him, actually _allowing_ this, and insulting him was the last thing Cliffjumper wanted to do. “I want to spike you a lot, please. Yes.” 

Mirage’s laugh was always a little haughty – just a tad condescending, but right then it stroked Cliffjumper’s audials like a caress from Primus himself. “Well then, what are you waiting for? Show me what you got, little bot…”  
And oh – oh! There was Mirage’s hand, right above his panel. 

“I- yes, you…” Cliffjumper said, and he let his spike-panel pull back. “Hh-here.” Primus, he hoped that he was well endowed enough for Mirage’s tastes. He was average, maybe a little bigger than normal for his frametype, but he didn’t know what Mirage liked. If Mirage was going to call everything off now, he was going to explode – and not in the good, messy, overloady way!

Mirage’s hand curled around his spike, and Cliffjumper held his breath as the mech’s hands explored his equipment. Primus, let him measure up!  
“Hmm… you’re large for a minibot.” Mirage said, and his soft lips pressed against Cliffjumper’s cheek. He sounded like he approved.

“Yea.” Cliffjumper’s answer was more a sound of relief than a sound of pleasure. “Good enough for you, right?”

Mirage chuckled again. “If you can handle my mods, I’d say there’s not another bot I’d rather want in my berth right now.” He leaned forward and whispered against Cliffjumper’s audial. “I’m rather… sensitive. Brutes just don’t cut it for me.”

“Mods – yea, sure – kinky.” Cliffjumper swore that his back plating rippled unnaturally at that staticky whisper in his audial. “Want me to go slow? I can do slow.” He replied hurriedly. Mirage’s hand was still slowly tugging on his spike, seemingly trying to pull Cliffjumper a little close to his face using his spike as a handle.  
He scooted forward, until he was face to face with Mirage – his spike pressed against the noble’s lower body. 

“I would like to see _you_ being tender and slow. Genuinely.” Mirage replied, and his soft pulls turned into a push. Cliffjumper worked with him, shimmying backwards until he was settled between Mirage’s legs and-  
Oh Primus – he even had biolights in his valve! 

Cliffjumper had never been much into touching valves with anything other than his spike, but Mirage’s artwork was seriously making him reconsider. The biolights, the soft material, and even the quality of his lubricants- all of it just made Mirage’s valve look like it would be a joy just to touch with his hands. Pit, Cliffjumper would have paid three months of his Golden Age salary just to be able to play with those folds a little bit.  
And right now he was going to get to touch all that with his fingers _and_ his spike! 

He reached out and took one of Mirage’s valve lips in his fingers. Pulling it just a little bit to the side, he could look at what was awaiting him, perfectly illuminated by soft biolighting.  
“Mmm. I must say Cliffjumper, I didn’t expect you to indulge in foreplay and preparation, but I won’t require it tonight.” Mirage said, and he pulled Cliffjumper’s hand away from his valve. The lips slipped through his fingers with ease, the lubricant too slippery to keep his grip. “I’m ready for you.”

“Alright.” Cliffjumper said. “Okay.”  
Was this still real? Maybe someone had slipped something into his Energex tonight, or he’d just had a little too much. 

He took a hold of his spike, and stroked himself a few times as he brought the tip towards Mirage’s valve. Mirage himself was stroking the small ridges around his outer node, the light from his optics just strong enough to show off his arousal.  
Cliffjumper pushed in, and closed his optics. The soft wet folds of Mirage’s valve parted for his spike, and he sank forwards. Alluring ridges and bumps caressed his spike as he slid in, coupled with slight squeezes from Mirage’s calipers. 

He opened his optics to look at Mirage’s face as he pressed in, his optics dim with pleasure and that weird smug little smile around his lips –

Wait. 

Cliffjumper frowned. Something was _off_ here.

The ridges in Mirage’s valve were rippling out of synch with his calipers. Especially at the base of his spike, Cliffjumper could feel the press of hard rounded metal – pushing right against the seams at the bottom of his spike.  
They didn’t seem right – they were too hard for pleasure nodes, and he swore that they had this sharp _edge_ when he thrusted at an angle. What kind of valve-mod had sharp, movable edge-…

Cliffjumper froze as realisation hit him. 

Mirage had spike-severing teeth in his valve. He was Spec Ops – his frame was bulging with booby traps and other unspeakable things to be unleashed on Cons, and people he might have a grudge against. People like Cliffjumper. 

“Oh my Primus.” Cliffjumper’s voice was five times higher than its normal setting. “Please don’t bite my spike off.”

“What?” Mirage had closed his optics when Cliffjumper had entered him, and the look he was giving Cliffjumper was one of sleepy bafflement.

“Is this about the first time we met? Is this your revenge?” Cliffjumper said, and he was pretty sure he was denting Mirage’s plating where he was gripping it. He didn’t dare to move, now that he knew what he was feeling. “Oh please, please don’t bit off my spike!”

“What?! You’re-…!” Mirage sputtered for words. He sounded angry, indignant, and Cliffjumper swore that his spark skipped a beat when he felt retracted teeth grinding against the base of his spike. “I told you I had modifications, you said you were fine with it!”

“This is not a MOD, this is a death trap!” Cliffjumper cried out. 

“I- I am not going to bite off your spike, who do you take me for!” Mirage sounded genuinely hurt for a moment, and then his lips curled in that haughty condescending manner that Cliffjumper hated so much. “And your little twig of a spike is NOT a vital piece of equipment!”

“It is a vital piece of equipment to me!” Cliffjumper couldn’t imagine a life without his spike. What would he do with his free time, or to relax?! He didn’t like valve interfacing or valve self-service! Did Ratchet even have replacement spikes lying around? Oh Primus- how was he going to show his face anywhere – oh my Primus!  
His optics were starting to burn, but he was too far gone to care at this point. Warriors were allowed to cry when their spikes were about to get torn off by a cruel siren!

“Are… are yu crying?” Mirage frowned, pushing at Cliffjumper’s head. “S-stop crying, just get your ‘vital’ equipment out of me if you’re gonna cry!” Mirage replied, and this time Cliffjumper could _really_ feel the sharp edges to those bumps when they pressed hard against his spike sensors. 

“No!” He whimpered, desperately holding himself against Mirage’s body. “You’ll trigger it! You’ll trigger it!”  
Would it help to try and retract his spike? Maybe that would trigger the teeth too- oh Primus, he had to stay pressurised… But how could he possibly do that when it about to get _cut off?!_

“It’s not an involu-… there’s no trigger, it’s just a mod!” Mirage said. “Here- let me-“ He picked at Cliffjumper’s tight grip on his thigh, trying to push him back.

“No! NO! I pissed you off and you’re gonna TRIGGER IT! I can feel them, you’re biting my spike off! I should’ve known you were gonna take revenge, oh Primus-” 

“You overcharged idiot of a mech- they’re- they won’t trigger-” Mirage growled, and he peeled Cliffjumper’s grip off his leg. 

Cliffjumper couldn’t listen – not when the valve-teeth felt sharper and sharper the angrier Mirage sounded.  
The battle that followed was short. Cliffjumper could do very little to retaliate to Mirage, having to hold on with both arms as the mech tried to push him off.

Cliffjumper would deny it to his dying breath, but he screamed when Mirage succeeded in dislodging him. He toppled off the berth, and immediately reached between his legs.  
He almost heaved with relief when his fingers found his spike – fully intact, and very eager to retract into its housing. Back to sweet, sweet, non-teeth safety. “Oh my fragging Primus- you almost took off my spike, frag what did I ever do to you to warrant that kind of treatment?!”

“Get out, Cliffjumper.” Mirage’s voice sounded frosty, and Cliffjumper flinched when the habsuite’s lights flicked on. The bright orange of the Ark was hurting his optics, and everything was spinning a little. 

Cliffjumper didn’t wait to see what else might happen, and he lurched out of the room and into the hallway. It was not possible for an automatic sliding door to slam closed, but it closed so fast that it left a scuff on Cliffjumper’s aft plating.

**Author's Note:**

> This has been lying in my editing pile forever, and it's time I throw it out there. Probably could be tons better than it is right now but I'm tired of looking at this and I will add any cool flashy new edits in when I care about this story again ^^ 
> 
> I got a writing blog; insecwrites.tumblr.com  
> I also got a Discord, butcha gotta PM me for a link to that one! ( On tumblr )


End file.
